


Peggy Sue

by GoggledMonkey



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kink Meme, PWP, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19722529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoggledMonkey/pseuds/GoggledMonkey
Summary: When Anathema asks Newt if he'd like to try pegging he says yes right away. Of course, he doesn't know what that means. Maybe it’s a type of food, like Thai food?





	Peggy Sue

All his life, Newton’s mother has called him a good boy. Usually it was said as praise because Newt was the kind of son who remembered her birthday and washed up after meals though, sometimes it was said soothingly while she rubbed his back and he hid his face in his pillow (like when he was kicked out of computer club). However she said it, she wasn’t wrong; Newt was a good boy.

Not morally that is (though he does tend to lean more towards good person then unscrupulous bastard) but in the puritan sense of the word. That’s not to say Newt didn’t think about sex or want sex. He does both and frequently; He has just never been very particularly imaginative about it.

Newt’s ideas of sex are cobbled together from schoolboy jokes, page 3 girls, and the saucier bits of EastEnders. He likes beautiful women, the idea of breasts, and the unknown mystery between a woman’s thighs and that’s about all. He is the type of man who, if he used the internet for pornography (which he doesn’t), would type the term “beautiful naked woman” and be satisfied getting just that.[1]

Newt’s most adventurous sexual fantasy featured two members of Girls Aloud at the same time[2] and that, in the grand scheme of human perversions, is fairly tame.

This rumination on Newt’s sexual fantasies has all been to say that nothing in his life up to this point had prepared him for his girlfriend of two and a half days asking him if he’d like to take a purple dildo up the bum.

Not that Newt even realized that’s what she was asking at first.

They’d been kissing, her skirt slowly riding up her legs, revealing her lovely knees then the first sexy glances of her fine silky thighs. Newt finds these slow reveals of skin the most erotic thing in his life. That doesn’t mean much. Anathema is sitting on his lap rocking against his erection, Newt is still wearing his trousers and he finds this all shockingly sexual. The most daring thing he can think of is taking his hand where it’s lightly perched on her shoulder and sliding it up that beautiful thigh.

He’s yet to work up the nerve to do so.

It is the second day after the world didn’t end. They have had sex three and a half times now. [3] Newt is winning in orgasms 4 to 2 but Anathema is catching up building a nice one by just slowly rubbing against him. She’s gotten hot and worked up and because of that she breaks their kiss, stares at him, her eyes wide, cheeks flushed and asks, “Would you ever want to try pegging?”

He has no idea what that is. Maybe it’s a type of food, like Thai food. Something interesting with noodle and fish. He won’t ask what it is. He can’t. He has already admitted to her about being a virgin and to not being a computer engineer and he’s not sure how much more she’ll be willing to overlook. Though she hasn’t yet kicked him out of her cottage for these failings he’s concerned one more slip up showing how inferior he is compared to her will be his undoing. Also, her skirt has slid as far up as it can and he can see that what she’s wearing underneath is black lace. He cannot think straight.

So, with the bluster of a man who has no idea what she is talking about he says, “sure”.

Anathema, for her part, loves his enthusiasm.

She has not had a lot of sex, she has never had a long-term boyfriend, and she has never lived her life not following the words of her long-dead relative. But she has, unlike Newt, been on the internet. In between studying prophecy and witchcraft, she spent her formative years mired in the seediest places a young girl could find themselves (mainly LiveJournal and DeviantArt). She knows what things Hermione Granger could get up to in the potion classroom after hours. And Anathema has ideas. She’s has fantasies.

She’s had fantasies that could make his Cheryl and Kimberley having a nude pillow fight fantasy blush.

She’s also spent too much of her life waiting for her sexual encounter with the man that turned out to be Newt and not enough time living her actual sexual life.

But now, she is free of all prophecies. These are the first days of the rest of her life and she’s has a list of things she wants to try and, apparently, a boyfriend just as eager to try things as her.

“Really? Most guys would never want to do that.”

“Well, I’m not most men,” Newt says, trying for suave but wrecking it by being himself. She still beams at him like he’s exactly what she wants.

They kiss again, Anathema extremely enthusiastic and he thinks, that is the end of that, they’ve made dinner plans and now they’re going to get on with the ‘doing it’ portion of the evening.

But she doesn’t take off her clothes, or take off his clothes, or pull him on top of her (and these are really the only sex moves he has down at this point). She breaks their kiss again and asks, “Do you want to try it today? Now? Because I have everything we need.”

“Sure,” he says again this time not to look clever and save face but because she looks so eager.

She doesn’t go to the kitchen. She just grabs a box that hadn’t been unpacked yet and brings it over to the bed. The box is labeled: Bedroom--Sex Toys and his insides do a nervous twist. Not Thai food then. He has a limited sexual imagination so when he hears the term ‘sex toy’, his brain conjures the image of a thing that looks something like a feather duster but sexier.

Anathema peels the tape off the box and fishes around inside. There are mysterious things within, the glimpse of which fill Newt with the tense feeling one gets when you’re in a group of academics talking about Proust, or numerical modelling or Marxism and at any moment they are going to ask your opinion on the subject and find out that, though you have been nodding along the entire time, you don’t actually know what any of those things are.

She removes three items from the box.

First: A bottle of lubricant

Second: A confusing jumble of looping leather bands and metal rings

Third: A dildo

Newt’s never actually seen a dildo but recognizes it on the bases that it looks very much like a penis. A purple penis mind but it still has that classic phallic shape. She hands it to him, and he takes it in his hands and holds it like a man would hold a grenade that may go off at any moment.

“Will this be alright? It’s the smallest one that fits on the harness.”

“Yes,” he croaks, then coughs, “this should do us just fine.”

Being that he has his own penis he’s not sure what the point of the purple one is, and he’s terrified that she’s going to make a ‘well get on with it’ gesture and expose how little he knows about these kinds of sex things.

Instead, she strips down and ‘oh’, while she is so pretty in clothes, she is amazing out of them. The skirt puddles at her ankles and he can see all the way up that long, long stretch of legs, see those alluring thighs, the tempting flat plane of her tummy and the mysterious vee of her legs. She takes off her blouse and all he can see are the freckles on her shoulders and when she magically and deftly unhooks her bra and drops her knicker then she’s a lovely vision of smooth skin and lush breasts, dark hair rippling down over a shoulder and matching hair curling sweetly between her legs.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes knowing these words are entirely inadequate.[4]

"Thank you," she says pleased and almost shy. Then with a determined nod, she orders, “take off your pants.”

For her, he’d take off his trousers and his pants. His shirt and one striped sock that had managed to migrate its way back onto his foot also come off and he sits before her entirely nude. Even though he feels awkward letting her see him like this, his witchfinder private’s private is still standing at attention even when her eyes peer down at it.

“Newton, you’re amazing,” she says, and he’s never heard those words before unless they are followed promptly with ‘ly bad at this’. But she doesn’t add that part. She just seems genuinely pleased with him and to be with him and that makes his chest ache in a very warm needy way. But then she adds, "You've hardly ever been with a girl before and you're willing to try anal. Amazing." And that warm feeling goes away in favour of panic.

Anal is the most forbidden, most dirty sex word Newt has ever heard and all at once he remembers he’s holding a purple dildo. His fingers tremble on the silicon. He looks from it to the soft swell of her backside and is absolutely certain he’s not going to be able to put anything there even though she’s looking at him like he’s a wonder.

“Anathema,” he starts, not wanting to be a disappointment but knowing in his bones he’s going to be.

She stops him with a gentle touch on the cheek, “I’ve never done this either. We’ll do it together and you don’t have to be nervous. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

She steps into the strips of leather and shimmies it up her hips until it reveals itself to be a strange belt with a triangle of leather positioned right over her crotch. She takes the dildo from his hands and the base fits into the metal ring there and he finally gets it.

Oh.

The dildo is not going inside of -her-.

This scene is the punch line to many hyper-masculine jokes, the girl is wearing ‘that’ asking her boyfriend to bend over and it’s hilarious because there is nothing more horrifying, but Newt doesn't run out of the room. Instead, he takes her in with wide eyes. It’s different, seeing her with a purple penis bobbing on front of her. She stands different with a confident stance her hips wide and her chest puffed out. There’s excitement in her eyes that makes them bright and a pink blush that goes all the way from her cheeks to the top of her breasts.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

He followed her into that army base; he followed her to the end of the world.

He’d follow her anywhere.

“What do I need to do?” he asks, and her smile is worth all the nervous flutters in his stomach.

He lets her arrange him on her bed on his knees and elbows, a pillow snug to his hips. If he’d felt awkward before just being naked, he feels fairly mortified in this position. He doesn’t really have what one would call a good side but if he did it certainly wouldn’t be the one thrust up towards her. And she’s looking at that side of him. She’s going to touch that side of him!

She doesn’t seem concerned or disgusted. She even leans forward and gives him a kiss right above the cleft of his bum, a place he’s never thought to want to be kissed and it’s so nice he makes a small happy hum. She crawls onto the bed and kneels behind him.

Over his shoulder he watches her rubbing her ersatz erection, slicking it up with a handful of lube. It should be frightening because he’d agreed to let her put that in him. It should be frightening because he’s never seen someone do that, gripping and rubbing same way he’d hold himself to toss off and it’s so taboo, so strange and he can’t look away from the way her hands slide up and down that purple cock.

It’s a shock when the rigid sticky plastic touches him, slithering up against his inner thigh, alien and predatory. He dares to look back again and she’s holding it in one hand guiding it towards him. It touches him again but this time right between the cheeks, so it presses up against that most private of places. He starts forward, away from the touch.

“It’s ok,” she soothes, and he holds still when she presses it against him again. It feels weird and then it feels painful and he makes an unhappy noise.

“Relax,” she tells him already pulling back and grabbing up the bottle. More slippery liquid is dripped between them, her fingers rubbing in places no one has ever touched in a sexy manner before not even himself. He takes a deep breath sinks his chest lower on the bed and tries to relax for her.

“Ohmylord,” he breathes out in one word as the tip breaches him. He squirms, finds that any movement makes it all feel -more- and freezes. She does not freeze and drives further in, he squeaks, she pulls back all the way out, and he groans.

“You’re doing so good,” she assures him and holds his hip still so she can slide in again. He says the same strangled heavenly appeal as she enters in, going deeper this time, splitting him open like one might split a satsuma with one’s thumbs. It does hurt, a little, but it’s a strange pain one that hovers on the precipice of pleasure that makes his insides quail. 

She pulls back, adjusts her weight on the bed and drives back in deep, so deep her pelvis ends up flush with his backside.

“Oh,” they both say at the same time and then she’s thrusting her hips wildly and he’s not able to say anything for a moment. Then he can’t stop the flood of sounds pouring out.

Her name is impossible to say during sex but he tries gasping it with each thrust “Ana, Ana, Ana, Ana,” he starts each time but there are too many syllables and too much inside stretching him open and so finally these attempts at her name shortened to just the first vowel, a moan of “Ah,ah,ah,ah” as she rocks into him.

Her voice is a breathy “yeahyeahyeah,” in response, building in intensity, her hips frantically bucking as she reaches for a peak that makes her groan and shift and push harder. The harness rubs against her clit with each thrust and the mysterious spot between her thighs is the wettest it’s ever been, practically dripping. She finally hits her peak with a cry and thrusts hard and deep at a slightly different angle from before.

Something explodes inside Newt.

The thrusts before had been tantalizing close, brushing, teasing, at some magical bundle of nerves and this had made him wiggle and moan but with this new angle the hardness inside him bares down entirely on that sensitive spot and he screams.

This orgasm is intense. It didn’t come from his own hand wrapped around himself, or the soft pillow he’s rubbing against or even the tight wet mystery between her legs. This comes from somewhere deep inside him, a place he didn’t know he has, a sharp snapping pleasure that explodes from a nebulous space between his hips spreading electric fire to his genitals and legs, causing his toes to tightly contract. He comes in a surge shooting in hot and wet splatters over his front and her bedspread.

Anathema pulls out entirely and he whimpers, boneless, into the mattress before she tugs him over onto his back.

“Are you ok?” she asks concerned. Newt’s more than ok; He is amazing. His eyes are wet, and he may have died a second there but even though he’s come all over himself and her pillow, he feels an insatiable hunger deep inside. Though he hardly he feels capable of moving ever again, he reaches out for her glorious sweat slick thighs and tugs her closer.

“Yeah?”

“Ana,” he gasps, then, “thema,” but that’s all he manages to say since his brain is temporarily rebooting and may take a while to start back up.

The sticky pillow is readjusted under his hips propping him up, his legs falling akimbo and wide open because his bones have all turned to sponge. He’s way too far gone to feel self-conscious and she kisses him, hefts up a leg, and fucks right back into him.

She slides in so, so easy this time, his body open and welcoming. Her thrusts are smoother now, long and controlled and the bed creaks under them in the easy rhythm. He lolls in a daze for a moment letting the movement take him then with great effort wraps his legs around her waist so she can drive deeper and harder. He pushes back to meet her thrusts and they both groan.

She’s already come once but she manages a second time by circling her hips. She hits that spot inside again and his dick tries it’s very best and even dribbles a bit more mess onto his stomach but clearly, he’s entirely spent. She gives it a few more rocks but eventually even her twitching aftershocks peter out leaving them both empty, pliant and collapsed together in a heap.

Her dildo, unlike a flesh penis that softens when you’re done with it, stays hard and locks them together until one of them has the strength to pull apart. With effort, she slips out and he moans. Everything is sore and sticky, but he finds that it’s not an unpleasant feeling.

She cuddles up to Newt and the still hard dildo pokes into his hip as if reminding him it was still ready and able to soldier on, unlike his own soldier. And if he’d been a slightly different man, he might feel emasculated by it, or embarrassed by it, or even angry that it made him feel so vulnerable.

But he's not that slightly different man. He's just had the best orgasm of his life and would very much like another one like it in the future. And, also, what other things did she keep in that box labeled sex toys and could they also be just as good? His sexual imagination is set alight and he switches over from being purely a good boy to a being a slightly naughty one. As warned, Newt’s been seduced into wickedness[5] by a witch.

“What else do you want to try?” he asks her, ready for anything.

“Oh, there are so many things,” she replies with a breathy happy voice before kissing his cheek.

While this seems like the set up for a wild sex party what they end up doing for the rest of the day is: napping for most of the afternoon, showering together in a way that started sexy but ended being more playful and sweet, going out for Thai[6] and then spending the evening watching a nature documentary on killer whales.

Overall, not a bad day.

* * *

[1] Considering Newt had his first wet dream and subsequent daily masturbatory sessions the same year sending your friends links to shocking porn became popular, this is impressive. His school mates did not make it through this era without being saddled with at least one fetish.

[2] They both featured not because two girls were more titillating but because Newt could never decide which he liked the most and he didn’t want to leave anyone out.

[3] Hand-jobs are only .5 of a sex act.

[4] In school Newt’s marks for poetry composition were entirely inadequate. If he had the words, he would be able to explain that the thrill he felt when looking at her was the same shock of sublime that Romantic poets were always feeling when they stood on a mountainside. That there was a reason he’d been warned away from witches because her beauty is the kind that could ensorcell a sailor to happily dash himself upon sharp rocks if only she’d look at him for one moment more. He does not have these words so ‘so pretty’ will have to do.

[5] Well, wicked only if kinky sex acts are truly evil but despite what some spokespeople for heaven may claim sex acts, even kinky ones, are not necessarily good or evil nor are they the creation of demons (despite what certain demons may claim). Like rock music and macramé, kinky sex is just a neat thing that humans have come up with to pass the time.

[6] After Adam had reset the world Tadfield contained a new restaurant, The Thai That Binds, that had been there for ages.

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt and post [ here. ](https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/616.html?thread=3176#cmt3176)


End file.
